


20 Feet: Interludes

by TwoSexySlytherins



Series: Zabini-Potter Chronicles [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Interludes of 20 Feet, M/M, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoSexySlytherins/pseuds/TwoSexySlytherins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b>This new series is for interludes in the 20 Feet verse, suggested by a wonderful reviewer on the parent story: 20 Feet. Thank you! Each chapter of this, will be one shots only, depicting some missing scenes from the original narrative. 20 Feet is primarily about Harry and Blaise, their relationship, and their struggles as they face Voldemort and other troubles as students. I don’t what the narrative to be taken over by the side parings and OCs. However, I do want to tell more about them. Those vignettes and anecdotes will be housed here. They will include longer, more detailed depictions of Draco and Bill’s growing relationship, Ama’s time exploring the British wizarding world, Rabastan and the twins, Remus, Ron and Luna, Sirius and Severus, and probably more about the other characters as well. Basically, anything that’s not integral to the plot of 20 Feet and was therefore grazed over.</p><p><b>Disclaimer:</b>This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Mischief

**Author's Note:**

> _This first interlude has been on my mind for a while, so I’m excited to finally write it down. It is about Rabastan, Fred, and George although George isn’t directly in the scene. He’s away on business, and you know what they say about those mice when the cat’s away. The interlude takes place between chapter 17 and 18. I hope you all enjoy it!_

****

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes Mischief

Rabastan brushed several strands of hair from his sweaty forehead. Unlike the upstairs apartment, the little work room located off of the downstairs shop was stuffy and claustrophobic. Rabastan hated working in it, but Fred needed the help running the store. George was out running errands, and one of their younger shop hands, Claire, fire-called to inform them that her mother was ill and needed tending. That left them a little short staffed during one of the busiest months of the year.

“Robert, Fred needs ya outside,” the second shop hand, Timothy, poked his head inside.

“What does he need,” Rabastan turned slightly, barely giving the man his attention. He wasn’t eager to join the masses likely crowding the twins’ popular store. However, a break from the gloves project he’d taken on in the suffocating room wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

Timothy arched an eyebrow, “Ta work as ’m sure they’re paying ya ta…although I don’ see why,” the old lad grumbled. Ever since Rabastan had begun to venture down into the store front proper, Timothy had taken exception to his presence; Rabastan couldn’t understand why. If either of the workers had to take the day off, he wished it wasn’t Claire. The girl was sweet and charming. Finding out she had been a Hufflepuff before graduating the year before wasn’t a surprise to Rabastan. 

Rabastan clenched his teeth and blew out a large steadying breath. _If this foolish ornery old man knew who to whom he spoke he would swallow his moldy dentures along with his barbed tongue._

“Alright old man. I will locate Fred myself.”

Timothy simply grunted. He had a cashier to run.

“Fred, what do you want,” Rabastan grumped with crossed arms, locating the red head in one of the aisles. 

Rabastan was surprised to have found him so quickly. _Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes_ was an oddly shaped shop. The cashier’s station and hidden workroom below were squeezed in the center of the building, surrounded by the aisles on all sides. As opposed to a circular design as this might suggest, the shop was oddly shaped too—akin to a maze—with more turns, twists, and corners than, by rights, the shop should actually have. It was cramped as well—crammed to the rafters with tall shelves, filled to the brim with an assortment of merry-making items. Nevertheless, it was still very large—deceivingly so, based on the curbside appearance of the store which included a single door and about three feet of window space on either side. Fred and George had maximized the real estate of the place in a way that could only be found in a magical shop run by skillful wizards. 

Fred chuckled. “Timothy put you in a bad mood again?”

“He’s insufferable,” the Slytherin complained. “If I weren’t a wanted man, I would ring his blasted-”

“Alright, alright, leave him be. He’s not that bad, and you won’t have to deal him anymore today,” Fred rushed to calm the older man. “I just need help stocking these shelves and then you can return to the work room if you would like.”

Rabastan shook his head. Leaving that veritable closet was a breath of fresh air. He wasn’t eager to return at the moment. “This is fine for now,” he answered, taking in the boxes at his feet that were filled with _whimsical wonders_. The items that were much too sophisticated to be called a _toy_ could make any overcast day sunny for hours. They were a hit with children as well as adults who had plans for outside outings and events such as weddings and parties. 

Rabastan tossed the tiny sphere in the air and caught it with an impressed smile. They were ingenious little objects that made use of minor time magic, encasing a selected area in a time warp that returned that area to a sunnier time. The further in the past the sunny day, the more magically taxing it could be on the user. That’s why the _wonders_ could only be removed from the shelf and purchased by wizards who had reached their magical majority. In truth they should probably be illegal given the Ministry’s restriction on such magic. Rabastan smirked, respecting the twins all the more for it.

After emptying a previously started box, he bent over and pulled one of the fuller boxes over to him, twisting and turning to dodge the small children running around his knees. Rabastan had never felt particularly big with his brother being a good four or five inches taller than him, but the man felt like a giant amongst the youngsters. It had been such a very long time since he had been amongst children. At times, his fingers itched to just swing one up onto his shoulders which was bizarre because he’d never been much interested in children before, but things changed as you aged. That was an irrefutable fact of life.

Bending to make his third pass at the box, Rabastan jumped and glared over his shoulder. “Did you just pinch my arse?” 

Fred looked at him innocently, obviously smothering a grin and shook his head negatively. “I would never.”

Rabastan only scowled harder and pointed at Fred’s nose, not believing a word coming out of his smirking mouth. “There are children around you lecher. Stop it or I’m not helping you any longer.” 

“I didn’t do anything,” the redhead protested with a grin, hunching his shoulders like a scolded child. 

“Shut up,” the convict growled, turning back to his work. He stocked another two shelves before he felt a second pinch to his bottom. 

Rabastan slammed down two wonders. “Damn it, Fred. Stop it you arse-” his voice cut off with a strangled groan as Fred slid behind him and two warm hands wrapped around his hips, squeezing his crotch. 

“Careful with the merchandise,” Fred chastised lightly as he began to squeeze and gently massage Rabastan. He dipped his head to nibble at Rabastan’s neck. 

“Fred, your customers,” Rabastan moaned, bracing his hands against the shelves of products before him. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing,” he growled, while still rolling his hips to match the waves of pleasure beginning to lap at the base of spine. 

“Forget about them. I’ve cast a disillusionment charm on us, so that no one can see us. _Obscuro_ ,” he whispered. 

Rabastan gasped as a thin silk blindfold slid around his head and covered his eyes.

“Now you can’t see them, and they can’t see you. Forget about them. Think only of me.” 

Rabastan breathed deeply through his mouth, wondering why they didn’t just go upstairs to the apartment, but he had to admit that it was a little exciting down here in the aisles. It was precisely things like this that drew him so strongly to the daring twins. They were a unique blend of Slytherin selfishness and cunning and Gryffindor bravery and reckless abandon that called to Rabastan’s wilder, mischievous side. 

At the same time, Fred and George were good—noble even. He wouldn’t have believed it of himself when he was younger and much more foolhardy, but the tainted power of the Dark Lord that he thought he craved as a boy had nearly ruined him.

Rabastan shivered as he felt Fred begin to fumble with his belt buckle and zipper, opening his pants wide and pulling out his growing erection. 

“You and George are the worst,” Rabastan groaned even as he thrust into Fred’s groping hands. “I am trying to work in your shop you heathen, yet you are distracting me. This is not how a business man should behave at work.” 

“It is my shop; I can do what I want in it,” he argued, pushing his dick into the crease of Rabastan’s covered ass. “And this is partly your fault, bending over in those tight pants and displaying your arse to me over and over again. I am only a man, and I can’t get enough of your arse. I never pretended to be the picture of restrain ‘Bastan.” 

Rabastan dropped his head backwards onto Fred’s shoulder, turning his face into the redhead’s neck and face. He lifted his hands and up and laced them behind Fred’s head, thrusting into the younger man’s warm hands more vigorously. He found it more difficult to remember why he was protesting as each second passed and pleasurable sparks flew up across his nerves. 

“George will be angry,” he panted hoarsely as a final defense, “that we left him out.” 

Fred shook his head minutely and rubbed his constrained cock harder against his partner. “He will understand. The both of us have such trouble keeping our hands off of you now,” he groaned, using his grip on Rabastan to pull him tighter into his body.

“Hm, I’m going to come in my pants again like a child again,” Fred groaned, his face turning as red as his hair.

Rabastan clenched his eyes closed and fisted Fred’s hair, “You are a child,” he teased, thrusting quickly, chasing his release. “And you’re taking advantage of an old man.” He gasped out loud and precum leaked copiously from his slit when the redhead bit his neck in retaliation. 

“Shh,” Fred mumbled against his skin. They were secluded in a corner of the shop, but patrons, namely young children and their nannies or tired mothers were still bustling around the shop. “I did not cast the silencing charm. Someone will hear your slutty moans if you’re not careful.” He squeezed the head of Rabastan’s cock tightly causing the man to bite his lips to smother a blissful shout. 

“Then George and I really will be angry. We only care to share you between ourselves, _old man_.” 

Rabastan groaned a final time as Fred’s rough hands and growling voice sent him over the edge, his semen dirtying the empty shelf at his waist. Sweat was sliding down his back and trembling legs. He released his hold on Fred to brace himself on the shelves that began to subtly shake with every hard thrust from Fred. Rabastan was spent, but Fred it seemed was not; the man’s thrusts became more forceful with every second as he was intent on following his older lover into oblivion. 

“Shit,” Fred groaned, dropping his head to Rabastan’s shoulder with a final slap of his hips. “I wish I could have truly felt you,” he whined, wincing at the wetness in his trousers. 

Rabastan collapsed against the shelves and watched through squinted eyes as the products above him rocked from the impact. The older Slytherin rolled his eyes. “I told you that we should have waited or at least went to the backroom, tiny though it is. This is entirely your fault, and I for one have no sympathy for your predicament you-” 

His whispering voice—raspy from exertion—cut off abruptly when Fred gave his cock a none-too-gentle squeeze. The rough treatment elicited a hiss form his mouth and a valiant twitch of interest from his limp penis. 

Rabastan kept his head on the shelf but turned it slightly to stare at one of his men with a sated smile. “You really are the worst,” he mumbled. 

Fred snorted and helped him clean and close his pants after casting a scorgify on his own trousers. With a final flick of his wand and check that no one had ventured their way, he cancelled the disillusionment charm as well. 

“Yes, yes I am,” Fred agreed as he stood and took a step back from his limp lover. “But you love it,” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Rabastan’s forehead. He ran his fingers lightly through Rabastan’s short hair and sighed. “I think you’re beautiful like this, but I miss your longer hair.”

Rabastan closed his eyes at the gentle touch. No matter how rough and feverish the twins could be with him during sex, the twins were always so gentle and teasing with him afterwards and before. It could be exhausting, taking them both at the same time, yet Rabastan honestly did love it. He loved their energy, their passion, and their candid nature. After all of the lies and deceit of his past life and the depressing, dreary, colorless time in Azkaban, the twins were like oxygen to a drowning man. Harry Potter was his solace and peace, but Fred and George gave him new life. 

“Finish helping me stock these shelves?” 

Rabastan narrowed his eyes and swept the sable brown short bangs from his eyes. His hair was now sweaty and sticking to his skin. He too was ready to return his naturally darker appearance. At the moment it was because he normally didn’t have bangs to irritate him after impromptu sex in the shop. Though, his natural longer hair would be sticking to the back of his neck and shoulders right now. Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible trade off. 

“Not on your life,” he sniffed, glaring at his partner. “I’ll not have you molest me a second time. I am going upstairs for a shower.” 

Fred grinned and shrugged. He didn’t really need the help, but he’d felt that Rabastan needed a break earlier. It had initially been a very innocent gesture, but as they: the road to hell is paved with good intentions. When he saw Rabastan bending over repeatedly, he just couldn’t stop himself from touching…and then _taking_. 

“Come up for lunch in an hour,” he heard Rabastan call from one aisle over. Fred only grinned brighter as he shook his head. The facets of Rabastan’s personality and subsequent behavior were astounding. The man was fussy and sweet to them at times, reserved at others—never loud or boisterous like his two new lovers—but still he possessed roguish haughtiness most of the time that was difficult to figure out but aligned so well with the twins’ temperaments. The kindness that was slowly revealing itself behind the man’s eyes was what had inescapably snared Fred and his brother, endearing the man to them. Not to mention, the rosy blush and lustful moans he shared with them passionately at night. 

Fred felt himself begin to warm a second time beneath his collar and cleared his throat. “Now, no more of that,” he chastised himself aloud. “I’ll never get done with this, thinking about that.” He glanced to the many boxes to his right. “And, I need to finish quickly or George will have him all to himself at lunch. That just _will not_ do.”

\---:::---


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This interlude occurs between chapter 19 and chapter 20. While Harry and Blaise are fighting and having deep conversations with Lady Bahiti Zabini during their suspension, this is what Draco and Bill were getting up to: some fluff/feels and a bit of smexy action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N: For those of you who read 20 Feet, the parent story to this, you’ll know that I am a few days late posting this. I had some major edits once I started to review this, and that took a bit of time rewriting. In any case, here it is!_
> 
> _This interlude occurs between chapter 19 and chapter 20. While Harry and Blaise are fighting and having deep conversations with Lady Bahiti Zabini during their suspension, this is what Draco and Bill were getting up to: some fluff/feels and a bit of smexy action. Enjoy!_

****

Interlude 2: Bill and Draco

Bill frowned and the crossed his arms disapprovingly. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

Draco froze, his back muscles tightening almost painfully as they became rigid in the awkward bent position. Knowing he was caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, he slowly closed the drawer to his father’s desk and flicked his eyes to see Bill standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb casually. It was as if the man could only do things causally. He made Draco—who worked very diligently to appear calm and collected—look just that, as if he’s fighting tooth and nail for every second of poise he should claim as his birthright by virtue of being both a Malfoy and a Black.

He swallowed thickly, and stood firm in his positon across the room behind his father’s desk. 

Bill raised both eyebrows amusedly and properly entered the room, “Looking for this,” he asked, raising a hand and brandishing a piece of rolled parchment that the blonde couldn’t see him holding seconds before. 

Draco brushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear and smirked cockily as if he hadn’t just been caught snooping where he shouldn’t.

Bill came a stop in front of him and grinned widely as Draco reached for the parchment just as he banished it to his own personal room in Zabini Manor.

\---:::---

“Just let me see the contract, Bill” Draco urged.

“I want to talk with you first,” Bill shook his head.

Draco huffed and placed a hand on his hip, “About what?”

“Our courtship. It will be just that in the traditional sense, Draco,” Bill explained, grasping the blonde’s hand and pulling him over to small the empty couch situated in Lord Malfoy’s borrowed study. “This will be a time for us to truly get to know each other; in that sense it is different from the courtship that Harry and Blaise are entering.” 

Draco nodded, clenching Bill’s hand all the tighter for his candidness. “I understand. They already believe they want to be together forever, but you… _we_ may have reservations in weeks or even months after today.” Though that was only the truth, it was disheartening to enter into a courtship with those thoughts foremost on the mind, bearing down upon and darkening the sweetness of new romance. 

Bill nodded and frowned, “That is only natural Draco. If it were not for this period of contemplation, I would have been bonded long ago to one that would have ultimately made me unhappy, due to no fault of her own.” It wasn’t his intention to sadden Draco with these words, but as the oldest in their relationship and a future potential life partner it was his duty to temper Draco’s excitable and admittedly cute yet stubborn single-minded determination to get whatever he wants. 

The Weasley heir couldn’t rightly explain why, but Draco’s inherent petulance and recklessness that he worked so hard to hide beneath his aristocratic upbringing was endlessly endearing to him. Draco had a harsh playfulness to him that excited Bill’s brash Gryffindor nature. It presented a glimpse of the Slytherin ruthlessness and cruelty the boy would likely show when crossed. Bill felt he needed that; he desired someone who was inherently different from himself, but had qualities that complimented his own. William could imagine himself steadying and guiding Draco through his fits of private anger and selfishness, while silently egging him on during bouts of trickery and sly cunning. 

In the same vein, Bill knew that he could benefit greatly personally and professionally—as essentially a sanctioned Goblin thief—from Draco’s Slytherin ambition and diplomacy. From nearly the first week of becoming acquainted with the Slytherin, Bill could see clearly the man that Draco could become, and he honestly couldn’t imagine a man or woman more suited to keeping Draco both happy and out of too much trouble than himself. More importantly though, he couldn’t imagine someone more suited to doing the same for him; he was positively delighted by the boy and the sundry turns of his Machiavellian mind. 

“Fleur,” Draco guessed, grimacing at the name, drawing Bill’s attention back to his original train of thought. Draco knew himself very well, so he wasn’t at all surprised or concerned by the spike of envy he felt just by thinking of the older woman who had once been in a relationship with William. 

“Yes,” the redhead nodded, sending little wisps of hair near his eyes, flying ever so slowly about his face. “Fleur was a sweet, reserved woman and quite beautiful. As you may have guessed, I have a type, Draco. But I am not a Lothario, preying upon blonde adolescents right out of school.” 

Draco smiled slightly, but he was still uncomfortable with the conversation. Initially, he had been attracted to Bill against his will and confused by it. Could you blame him? William was a Weasley after all. Still the more he teased and was teased by Bill in Severus’ potions lab, the more excited he became until Bill was filling his thoughts day by day and invading his dreams night after night.

“So why are we even doing this,” Draco asked, turning away from Bill and looking about the room at nothing in particular. 

Draco wasn’t so insecure that he wondered what a man like Bill could see in him, In fact, majority of the time it was the exact opposite. No one would ever describe Draco Malfoy as humble or self-effacing. It just wasn’t in his nature. 

However, he was a little astounded that Bill expressed the desire to potentially bond with him, going so far as to ask his father and mother for permission to draw up an official courting contract. He knew that the Malfoy name was an enticement to most and his good looks were normally enough to secure anyone he wanted, but with Bill there was first the simmering feud between their families to consider and then the obvious age gap. 

Because wizards had extended life-spans that were only lengthening with advanced magical medicine age wasn’t normally a consideration unless the gap was unseemly, but it was still weighing on Draco’s mind. Despite the dates they had gone on since the suspension and the time they spent together even prior to that, Draco had his concerns and reservations, though it looked like Bill was hoping to allay those today. Draco was both apprehensive and relieved at the same time. 

“Draco,” Bill called his name on a sigh and turned his face back towards him, “because you intrigue me, confound me, excite me, and incite such protective instincts the like I have seldom felt before.” He chuckled as Draco’s eyes became wide as saucers at his words. “It would no doubt offend your Slytherin nature to say that in these few months you have bewitched me.” 

Draco shook his head woefully with a playful smirk on his face, “Curse you and your Hufflepuff sentiment,” he grumbled with a blush. “But, I guess I must learn to endure. You may continue,” he sniffed and sat up straight and haughty. 

Bill laughed and leaned in to kiss Draco deeply, his free hand moving to clasp the boy’s neck tightly and pull him closer to him. Heat began to build in his body as he felt Draco slide closer to him and press against him. Their breathing picked up and Draco clenched his shirt tightly in his long, pale fingers. 

Bill could feel the tender adoration within him give way to burning arousal as Draco turned his body and moved into the redhead’s lap. Bill inhaled through his nose since Draco appeared unwilling to relinquish his lips. The blonde groaned when Bill’s hand sunk graspingly to Draco’s firm arse.

A red lustful haze was beginning to settle across Bill’s vision when he felt Draco draw his hand from his chest and untie his long fiery tresses. Draco twined his fingers and began to tug fervidly, stinging Bill’s scalp pleasantly, but he still bit his young lover’s lip in chastisement for the treatment. Draco merely groaned louder and pressed closer to Bill’s warmth, a keening whine rising in his throat.

The sound struck through Bill and the pale red haze before his eyes turned crimson. He tore his lips away, pressing them instead to the warm smooth skin of his lover’s neck, bathing it in kisses and stinging love bites. His hand sought skin as well and tore Draco’s tucked shirt out of his trousers to slide his hands inside and grip his blonde’s bare arse. 

They both hissed and sighed in tandem, Bill’s fingers seeking to plunder that which he had never touched but fantasized about endlessly.

“William,” Draco pleaded, canting his hips forward to press his cock into Bill’s. The striking pleasure tore through him and set them both shuddering. Draco’s frantic movements regrettably jolted Bill back to the present and he removed his hands from Draco’s behind and sat back to stare at the ceiling, breathing heavily.

Draco whined and shifted as the cessation of such pleasures. He dipped forward and placed his lips on Bill’s, hoping to draw him back.

“Draco,” he mumbled against the blonde’s lips, pushing him backwards ever so slightly. 

“Shut up, Bill. I’m busy.” 

The red head chuckled and pulled back to gaze at Draco’s flushed face. “We need to finish this conversation.” 

Draco shook his head, no. “What more is there to say? You are bewitched by me, completely taken with my demanding personality and gorgeous face and arse. Let’s get bonded already and make pretty strawberry-haired babies.” 

Bill grinned, but silently pulled away farther. “I promised your parents that I would speak with you seriously before showing you the contract and attaining your final consent to this courtship, and I will discharge that duty, Draco.” 

Draco groaned but righted himself, painstakingly slowly while atop Bill, and moved away to put a more respectable amount of space between them. “Fine,” he agreed with an aggravated sniff and pout, “there will be time enough for that after this.” 

Bill chuckled, “Yes, some of it.” 

Draco narrowed his eyes dangerously, or as dangerously as he could with his mussed attire and lips red from snogging, “Explain.” 

Bill rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly because he wasn’t exactly pleased by this stipulation in the contract either, but he needed to support it nevertheless. “We cannot have penetrative intercourse until after we are bonded. The restrictions on my permissible behavior are explicitly outlined, and slightly embarrassing in its detail,” he mumbled. “Luckily for you, they are harsher on my end than yours, but-”

“Wait what,” Draco interrupted, becoming more seriously outraged. 

Bill sighed, “Your parents are just trying to protect you.”

“From what,” Draco frowned, crossing his arms, “I am not a virgin, and you are to be my betrothed.”

Bin rolled his eyes, “I’m sure they know that, and that’s not the point. You know that. There are customs to uphold. Moreover, they do not want the Weasley heir to take advantage of theirs; there is much bad blood between our families, Draco. Surely, you can acknowledge that?”

“But we can do other things, right?” Draco pleaded still caught somewhere between outraged and horrified. How could his parents think they could do this to him? Had they never laid eyes on his William, then Draco might understand. But, to impose such a stipulation when Bill was so warm, big, and gorgeous was tortuous. There was no other word for it. These last few weeks away from Hogwarts would be hell and a true test of his already negligible self-restraint.

“Don’t pout,” Bill laughed at Draco. “The contract is necessary for a number of reasons already stated, but also it will allow us to see each other as much as possible after you return to school due to a 1917 amendment to the Hogwarts’ charter.”

“You are sure of this,” Draco questioned, losing much of his ire and becoming excited by the prospect of not having to wait until Yule to see Bill again.

“Without a doubt. I checked the school’s charter myself last week. It is public record at the Ministry. A situation such as ours isn’t without precedent.” Bill nodded, sweeping his hair back into a low tail and pulling Draco back to his side.

Malfoy sighed and relaxed immediately into Bill’s greater warmth. “I guess it is okay then,” he muttered.

Bill chuckled, “Would you like to see the actual contract now?”

\---:::---


End file.
